


Please, Just Hold Me

by WinchesterKarma67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Ghosts, Hunters & Hunting, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 23:10:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17334149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinchesterKarma67/pseuds/WinchesterKarma67
Summary: Ella started dating one of the Winchesters (purposefully left vague for your imagination & enjoyment) after she started hunting with them. One hunt in particular left her traumatized, suffering from nightmares. Unfortunately, Dean/Sam doesn't know how to help her or fix the situation. Rated M just to be safe.





	Please, Just Hold Me

_Blood covered everything.  Body parts littered the room around me in the dimly lit room.  I couldn’t remember where I was or how I got here.  Panic and fear gripped my chest as I struggled to keep my breathing under control.  It was freezing on the hard floor and I realized that I was just in my underwear._

_“Dean?  Sammy?”  My voice came out as a hoarse whisper.  I turned my head and scanned the room, hoping that someone was coming for me and that I wouldn’t find either of the Winchesters among the bodies._

_I tried to stand and a wave of dizziness kept me on my knees.  Memories flooded back.  I was in the abandoned strip mall just outside of the middle of nowhere.  We were hunting the spirit of a serial killer that brought his victims here.  Sam made sure I didn’t fit the victims’ profile and Dean promised to watch my back just in case since it was only my third time out hunting.  I’d heard Dean shout my name before I hit my head—no, something hit me in the head.  I touched a tender spot on the back of my head and my fingers came away sticky with blood._

_The room dropped in temperature and I could see my breath as a shiver ran through me.  He was coming.  I frantically looked around for something—anything to defend myself with but there was nothing.  The door was either locked or sealed._

_“SAM!  DEAN!”  I screamed and pounded on the door.  Vague whispers filled the room, both from the victims and the killer.  “I’M IN HERE!  HELP!”_

_“They’re not coming, love.  I’m afraid they can’t hear you.”  A sickening voice came from my right and I felt my stomach drop._

_“Let me go you bastard.”  I hissed—trying to hide the fear in my voice, but I knew what came next.  Sam had also filled me in on the killer’s MO…_

_“No.  You’re mine.”_

_I backed away from the door, not wanting to corner myself.  It was the only defense I had left.  The ghost had yet to manifest and there was a chance I could buy time dodging it._

_“If you fear death, don’t worry.  We’ll have plenty of time to play before that.  Then, you’ll be mine to play with forever.”  I could feel his icy breath on my neck._

_I spun around and backed away from the apparition._

_Suddenly, a dozen hands seemed to grab me at once.  I fell and they cruelly held me down as the killer’s ghost stalked over.  “Buy us time.”  The whispers resurfaced.  “If not you, us…”_

_Tears stung at my eyes in realization.  I struggled against their hold in vain.  The victims had been helping him make his kills in the afterlife._

_His blade broke my skin and a hand clamped over my mouth as I screamed in pain and misery.  I took in the sight of the dismembered bodies and stopped breathing, knowing that I was going to die here.  Hot tears slid down my face as I weakly tried to fight off the hands gripping me._

_“Ella…”  He said my name like I was already his and I wanted to vomit._

“Ella!”

I awoke with a gasp, disoriented.  I couldn’t _breathe_.  Not with those hands on me.  I fought and struggled before I finally broke free.  I fell on the floor before blindly scrambling to escape and bumping into a wall.  I sat there, curled in on myself and hyperventilating.  I was vaguely aware someone was calling my name beyond the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.

Someone touched the side of my face and I jerked away violently.  “Don’t touch me!”  My breaths were ragged and I must’ve looked like something feral as I raised my hands ready to defend myself, still trying to decipher reality.

“Ella… here… motel…”  I caught a familiar voice drifting into my awareness.  “Breathe, baby.”

I squinted against the darkness, expecting to find dismembered bodies but there were none.  There was a dark figure silhouetted against what little light was entering the room.  He was crouched over me.  I still had no idea where I was, but it had to be better than the room with the bodies. 

“It’s ok, you’re safe.”  He had his hands raised in surrender.  “You’re alright.  It wasn’t real.”

I thought for a moment before speaking.  “Motel room?”

“Yeah.”

I nodded shakily.

“Ready to get back into bed?”  He stood without offering to help me up.

I shook my head.  “Can’t sleep.”

“You don’t have to sleep, but it’ll still be better than the floor.  C’mon.”  His words were encouraging and anchored me enough to reality that I stood and followed him to the bed.  “This one seemed bad.  Wanna talk about it?”

I sighed.  “Strip mall.”

Even in the darkness, I could feel his attitude shift and see him wince.  He got into bed, purposefully edging away from my side so he could avoid touching me.  The room was silent.  “That was over six months ago.”  I could hear the guilt in his voice as well as a note of irritation.

“I know.  I’m sorry.”  I wasn’t trying to make him feel bad and I knew I should be over it.  “I think it’s just the motel…”  New places didn’t help with the night terrors I suffered from.  Being terrified and waking up in an unfamiliar place didn’t pair well together.

“You need to find a way to get past this, L.”

I knew he was right.  “I’m trying.  I wish I knew how.”  I scooted closer to him, trying to signal that I was ready for his touch—that I _needed_ his touch to feel safe again.  I needed to feel him holding me just like he did the night that he rescued me from that room.  He’d carried me out to the car and didn’t let go of me until we left the motel the next day.  He held me and comforted me while I uncontrollably sobbed into his chest that night and fell asleep in his arms.

Instead, tonight he rolled away from me.  “I can’t fix this, Ella.”  There was frustration and anger in his voice.  “I can’t even _touch_ you.”  He wanted to fix me, but he didn’t know how.

A part of me wanted to grab him and beg him to hold me.  I knew that he would, that he would do anything to make this better.  But then the lingering fear and anxiety from the nightmare rose up and stopped me from reaching out to him.  The anger in his voice had summoned it like another demon.  It slithered inside of me and stopped me from letting myself become vulnerable, even to him.  I curled in on myself as my body tremored with fear underneath the covers.

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”  I knew we would both lay on the bed, pretending to sleep for the rest of the night. 

I’d never be able to ask him to hold me.  He’d never touch me as long as he couldn’t see past my initial fear.  We were both stuck in this miserable limbo.


End file.
